


Coming Home to You

by MagicMarker



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Ehhhh, Everybody Lives, F/M, Fluff without Plot, I'm calling it, Letters, Love Letters, Some Plot, epistle fic, really this is just a series of letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:44:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicMarker/pseuds/MagicMarker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sent out by Thorin to the Iron Hills on a diplomatic mission, Fíli passes the time writing letters to the Lady of Dale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Home to You

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a timestamp for [Never Did Run Smooth,](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4707500/chapters/10750367) between chapters 11 and 12. I didn't link them into a series because I didn't want to imply one had to read NDRS in order to understand this fic. It stands alone just fine.

Fíli, Crown Prince Under the Mountain, to Sigrid, Lady of Dale,

 

As I mentioned in my last letter to you, my brother and I left today with a handful of other Dwarves on a diplomatic mission to the Iron Hills, where rules my uncle’s cousin Dáin Ironfoot.  We are to spend some time there with his people and, well, remind them that we exist, I suppose.  We’ll trade some, and discuss bringing fighters back with me in order to address the Orc threat.  Mostly, I expect, we’ll drink.

That sounds horrible right now, actually.  Last night Ori and Kíli and I got into a card game, which turned into a drinking game, and I trust you can gather the rest.  So of course I wake to Kíli shouting through my door, my head pounding, mouth like a desert.  How he managed to get himself up and ready in time, let alone get _me_ up is beyond me. 

At least we’d had the foresight to pack _before_ we started drinking, so the ponies were ready and waiting for us to go at first light, even if I wasn’t.  I’ve been given a young one for this ride, and while usually I’d rather have experience on my side, I am glad now for the endurance she showed today.  We rode from dawn til dusk, barely stopping for food, and we’ll start it all over again at dawn tomorrow.  Even sitting on the ground I can still feel the sway of the pony underneath me.

I’m exhausted, Sigrid.  I haven’t done this kind of trip in ages.

But when your little brother shoves your fiddle in your hands and begs for his favorite song, it’s hard to say no even after all these years.  So he and I played a bit, and Ori joined in on the flute, and everyone thought it was grand.  Times like these, it feels like everything’s a game again, and we’re just normal Dwarves playing like we’re princes, pretending like bairns do. Would that I could do that again, running around the yard calling broomsticks ponies, declaring hay wagons to be great caves in which to hide, fighting goblin-trees with our swords made of sticks.  But it’s back on the road for us tomorrow.

Now most everyone’s asleep except for me.  Someone had to take first watch, and I wanted to write you, so I volunteered.  But now it’s time for me to wake up Vidar and get some sleep myself.

We haven’t even reached our destination yet, but I already wish I were headed in the other direction.  Perhaps on the way home I shall just skip right past Erebor and go straight to Dale.  It would be so sweet to see your face again.

All my best,

-       F

 

~*~

 

The Crown Prince Fíli, to Sigrid, Lady of Dale and Jewel of her People,

 

Well, Dáin sure knows how to host.  Every night is a feast, and he makes sure that everyone’s favorite food is served every time.  I can’t say I’m sorry that out of all the wonderful dishes set before us, I’ve chosen the roast pheasant every time for the past three days.  You can’t find them on the Mountain because there isn’t enough brush for them to roost, but they’re everywhere in the foothills here.  We used to have it all the time when we were living in the Blue Mountains with Mother, and she’d make this amazing sort of sweet potato dish to go with it… Mahal, I haven’t thought about that in ages, but of course Dáin would remind me.

The rest of our journey here was uneventful.  We just rode and rode and rode, and sang to pass the time, which shouldn’t surprise you given Kíli’s presence.  I’m grateful though.  There’s nothing like music to make you feel better about things.  Kíli knows all the words to all the songs we learned when we were bairns, and he’s not afraid to sing them ~~at~~ for us all day long.

After we’d arrived, Dáin and I had some conferences ostensibly about trade and such, but mostly he just told me stories about when he and Thorin were young.  I’d never heard most of them – Thorin can be so touchy about anything that could possibly be used to tease him, even my mother couldn’t get some of these stories out when he was around.  After our father died, he did so much for us, you know, but he has _always_ taken everything so seriously, and according to Dáin that was true even before his beard came in.

But around all these stories of my uncle, father, and mother, Dáin and I did get a bit of work done.  He’s given me a list of names I should approach about coming back to fight the Orcs, and he’s helped me draft a plan to take back to Thorin as well.  So I feel like I’ve done my job today, and even though it’s late I’m happy to write you about what I’ve been doing.

I’m still not used to this way of life, Sig.  Ever since my father and uncle died, I’ve known that I would be Thorin’s heir, whether we took back Erebor or not.  But it’s somehow different, now that we do have the Mountain… I wish I could explain better.  Sometimes I still feel that I’ve no idea what people are talking about, and I just pretend to know, or pretend to have the confidence I need.  Everyone says I’m doing well though.  Perhaps that’s all being a prince really is – faking it and seeing what happens. 

Thanks also for your letter; it reached me just fine here.  If you keep having trouble with the stove ventilation, have the blacksmith make you a piece for the stovepipe to replace the window completely.  Better to keep the smoke outside the building than let the light in.  I could bring you some mirrors as well so you could light the area without the heat of too many torches.

Speaking of, my lamp is going low, so I’d best sign off and get some sleep.  I think we’re nearly done with our visit here, and while everyone is most hospitable, I’m looking forward to returning westward.  I’m still not used to the idea of having a “home” waiting.  It’s never been a _place_ for me anyhow, always people.  I have my mother’s cousin here, and my brother, but I belong with my uncle, and Balin and Dwalin and all the rest of the Company.  And with you. 

It’s been too long since I heard your voice (no matter how Kíli imitates it to tease me, he can never get it quite right).  I might not’ve been joking about bypassing Erebor altogether.  I miss you.  So much.

I’ve had to switch to candle now; I really must stop writing or I won’t get any rest, and I’ll make a fool of myself both here and in this dratted letter.  Take care of yourself, Sigrid.  Perhaps let someone else take care of you too – you work too hard.

I’ll see you soon, I promise.

Yours,

-       F

 

~*~

 

Prince Fíli, to Lady Sigrid,

 

Just a quick note before we get back on the road to Erebor.  While in the Iron Hills I’ve found some little gifts here for you, Tilda and Bain, so I hope I’ll be able to see you soon to deliver them.  Thank Mahal and all the Valar we leave today.

Don’t get me wrong, I do really enjoy travelling (rather too much, according to some Dwarves), and my uncle’s cousin is wonderful, and everyone here has been so welcoming and kind.  Kíli and I played a bit for them at last night’s farewell feast, and everyone was quite complimentary.  It went late into the night – as all nights have for this whole blasted trip – but I met some really wonderful people.  A good number have agreed to come back with us, or will follow shortly after.  The energy here at the front gate, with everyone lined up to either join us or send their regards, is amazing.

Unfortunately I don’t get to come straight to you, Sigrid.  It’s been over a month now and all I want is to hold you in my arms, but I need to get the Iron Hills Dwarves all set up under the Mountain, and discuss the battle plans with Thorin.  It hopefully won’t be a problem to get away for a day or so before we head out though.  It all needs to be done, and I don’t mind the work.  I miss my uncle, and the Company, and it will be great to be back in Erebor.  I just wish that I was coming home to you.

-       F

 

~*~

 

Fíli of Erebor, to my dearest Lady Sigrid of Dale,

 

It took four days to get back to the Mountain.  It rained for two days straight and for a good chunk of the second day we just stayed in camp because the road was nigh impassable.  No ravens could fly in that weather, so I didn’t even bother to take my pen out of my bag.  Then when we did arrive in Erebor I was pulled in a thousand different directions.

You never left my thoughts the whole week.  I hope these things are not too forward to put to paper, yet still I wish very much that you should know them.  Through endless councils and countless hours of tedious paperwork, the thought of seeing you again at the end of it spurred me on.  You are precious, Sigrid, and though you balked at the title in my earlier letter I cannot recant: you are a jewel among Men.  I consider myself the luckiest Dwarf in Arda that you should even receive my letters, let alone hold me in any regard.

At least tonight I have enough energy to write before I collapse into bed.  I’m trying my hardest not to come down with the cold that Kíli caught on the road, so I’m going to rest as well as I can tomorrow, then I’ll set out the day after that.  I do hope this will not upset any plans you may have.

Times like these I wish Gandalf would come back and bring the eagles, so I could fly to you.  I could be there in a mere hour, rather than riding half the day.  I could have made the trip from the Iron Hills to Erebor in the blink of an eye, and missed the rain (and the sick) completely.  Alas, they are beasts far too noble to just ferry me about at every whim.  I will make do.

Just two days, and I’m coming home to you.

 

-       F

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a song by the same name, written by The Doubleclicks. [Give it a listen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BQoDQv7NPU4), and you can pick out a lot of the beats in the story that are direct translations of the lyrics. I had a lot of fun with it! Hope you did too.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Let me know how you liked it via kudos or comments, or you can find me [here on tumblr](http://cersei-the-truth-bombardier.tumblr.com).


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